


A New Flatmate

by holmesbrcthers



Series: Prompted Ficlets [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-30
Updated: 2014-01-30
Packaged: 2018-01-10 14:23:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1160720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holmesbrcthers/pseuds/holmesbrcthers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Do you want to hold one?” a young girl asked, smiling warmly. John returned the smile and nodded. “Yeah, that would be lovely, thanks. Can I hold that one?” he answered, pointing to a beautiful black labrador with large blue eyes. The young girl smiled and picked up the puppy, petting him as she placed it in John’s arms. “He’s two months old sir, and he has great breeding. And he’s a smart little bugger too,” she said, laughing. John smiled wide at the dog in his arms as it nuzzled against his jumper, mind trying not to process the fact that he’d picked out the one dog with the most resemblance to Sherlock. “Are you done there?” Sherlock’s voice rang out, and John reluctantly gave the puppy back. “Maybe another time,” he told the girl before running out the door behind Sherlock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A New Flatmate

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt was: Johnlock and puppies.

It was mid-December, and their most recent case had brought the two men to the pet-shop nearest 221B, Baker Street. Sherlock quickly talked to every employee in the store, assessing them all and getting their stories. Apparently, a stain on one of the part-time’s trousers confirmed the suspects alibi, but John had learned early on that interfering with this part of the investigation never helped, it always slowed things down, and so he walked around the pet-shop, smiling at the different animals. He walked over to the dog pen, and laughed as he saw a full litter of puppies all playing happily together. 

“Do you want to hold one?” a young girl asked, smiling warmly. John returned the smile and nodded. “Yeah, that would be lovely, thanks. Can I hold that one?” he answered, pointing to a beautiful black labrador with large blue eyes. The young girl smiled and picked up the puppy, petting him as she placed it in John’s arms. “He’s two months old sir, and he has great breeding. And he’s a smart little bugger too,” she said, laughing. John smiled wide at the dog in his arms as it nuzzled against his jumper, mind trying not to process the fact that he’d picked out the one dog with the most resemblance to Sherlock. “Are you done there?” Sherlock’s voice rang out, and John reluctantly gave the puppy back. “Maybe another time,” he told the girl before running out the door behind Sherlock. 

When he finally caught up to him, Sherlock stopped in the middle of street, and John almost ran headlong into him. “What is it?” John asked, both curious and nervous. Sherlock cocked his head towards John, his brows furrowed. “You go talk to Lestrade, I’ll text you what to tell him. I have something else I have to do.” John almost protested, but instead he sighed, knowing far too well that the fight wasn’t worth it. “Don’t forget to text me the information, Sherlock,” John called out as he walked nearer to the street, trying to hail a cab. “Let’s not try and reproduce last month’s fiasco, yeah? See you later.” John quickly climbed into the cab, letting his head fall back onto the cab seat. He was just hoping that Sherlock wasn’t going to try and do anything reckless.

Sherlock didn’t forget to text John, but it still took the army doctor a full three hours at Scotland Yard, Lestrade and Donovan set on writing a complete, up-to-par report from the very beginning of the investigation. When John entered the flat, he was expecting Sherlock wither out or laying on the sofa, as per usual, but he found him instead on the floor, sitting with his legs apart. “What the hell kind of experiment are you doing, Sherlock?” he sighed out, exasperated. 

A flash of movement caught his attention in the corner of his eyes, and suddenly, something warm and furry was on his leg, and it was breathing heavily. John’s eyes went wide in terror before he looked down and realized what the source was: the little black labrador he’d been looking at at the store. Sherlock stood, clearing his throat nervously. “I, uh… Well.” He ran a hand through his hair, disheveling himself in the process, eyes averted from John, even as the blond reached down and picked it up, nuzzling it. “I named him Hamish,” Sherlock continued, completely missing John’s incredulous look. “Merry Christmas, John.” John threw Sherlock a wide smile, crossing the room to place Hamish in Sherlock’s arms, smile widening even more as he saw his flatmate smile down at the little dog in his arms. “Thank you,” he breathed out.

“Merry Christmas.”


End file.
